WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Hydrogen B.
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 90: 090
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The next morning.
I woke up in a luxurious bed and muttered quietly.
“Hmm. At last, I’m waking up in a bed worthy of the Extreme Lunatic Hell Wizard Hunter...!”
The furniture had arrived yesterday.
While I was in the Tower, it had all been arranged. Thanks to that, I could finally wake up in a proper bed.
The Extreme Lunatic Hell Sweet Home was gradually starting to look like a place where people actually lived.
For reference, every piece of furniture had come from luxury furniture stores. Most of it had been bought on Na Hyeji’s recommendation.
Still, it was shocking.
What kind of bed cost tens of millions of won?
Come to think of it, Na Hyeji might actually be ridiculously rich.
Anyway.
“Sis! Food!”
I crawled into the living room and shouted. My sister, who was cooking in the kitchen, answered.
“Yeah, Jiho. What do you want for breakfast?”
“Soybean paste soup, obviously.”
“That damn soup again... I knew you’d ask for soybean paste soup. Wait a little, I’ll have it ready soon. I bought groceries yesterday.”
“Good. On the second day after moving, I finally get to eat my sister’s soybean paste soup.”
The kitchen appliances had arrived with the furniture yesterday, including the refrigerator. At last, we could eat home-cooked food.
A day didn’t properly begin unless you had homemade soybean paste soup for breakfast!
The table was set before long.
-Sluuurp!
“Jiho, eat slowly. And don’t make noise while you eat. If you eat that disgustingly outside, people will think you weren’t raised right.”
“Hey! I don’t need to listen to plebeians who can’t even use magic. How dare magic-ignorant plebeians call anyone uncultured! You plebeians who never learned magic are the truly ignorant and uneducated ones!”
“...I’m worried. Aren’t you signing the formal contract today and attending a banquet at the Blue House? You’re not going to eat this disgustingly there too, are you?”
“...”
“Jiho?”
My sister looked at me anxiously.
She worried too much. Did she really think I’d slurp, smack my lips, and shovel food into my mouth in front of the President of Korea and the President of the United States?
I hated people who smacked while they ate too. I only ate like this when I was comfortable at home.
Anyway, while we ate, I took out my phone and checked Hunter Gallery.
These were the posts I saw.
[Today’s the formal contract, right? When is it?]
[I heard it’s in the afternoon. Turn on a news channel at 3 p.m.]
[Practicing the post I’ll make later) Wow, Blue Dot was a beautiful military veteran girl, what a huge fucking surprise, holy shit]
[Big Dot isn’t meeting Torumph and going to America, right?]
[But isn’t Big Dot going to show his face and stop posting attention-seeking bullshit? I don’t think even someone with that much nerve could keep posting that stuff after everyone knows his face.]
[No, I think that guy would keep posting even after showing his face... I just get that feeling...]
Hunter Gallery was full of posts about me.
I grinned.
“Heh heh. I see plenty of Hunter Gallery users who’ll be so shocked by my holy and handsome face that they fall right over.”
“Jiho, your face is just average. Don’t get too confident.”
Was it because we were family? My sister always downplayed my looks.
Of course, I didn’t believe her. Iing Iing had said I was handsome.
And I had my secret weapon too... the Holy Cosmetic Effect.
After breakfast, a visitor arrived at the scheduled time.
“Hello, Hunter Baek Jiho.”
It was Han Seonga.
“I’ll escort you to the Blue House,” she said quietly.
My sister and I got into a car driven by a National Intelligence Service agent and headed toward Jongno-gu, where the Blue House was located.
It was almost time for the formal contract.
* * *
On the way to the Blue House, Han Seonga spoke from the front passenger seat.
“I’ll explain the formal contract procedure.”
She carefully went through each step.
“First, you’ll sign the formal contract documents in the Blue House main building. Then there will be a brief press conference, followed by a banquet at the State Reception House. That will conclude the event. It should take around three hours in total.”
The formal contract procedure was pretty simple.
Basically, I’d sign the contract documents in front of reporters at the Blue House main building, wreck a press conference, then go to the State Reception House, eat at the banquet, and return home.
“It’s simpler than I thought. Everyone made such a big deal out of it that I thought it’d be way more grand.”
I thought they’d raise the Taegeukgi, play the national anthem, make me recite the pledge to the flag, and turn it into a whole song and dance.
Apparently not.
“They used to proceed that way, but London imposed sanctions,” Han Seonga said. “They said forcing patriotism on Hunters from Hard-rank backgrounds was a violation of the Convention.”
“Ah-ha.”
“And public sentiment isn’t very favorable toward it either. Even if we held a grand formal contract ceremony, they all ended up leaving for foreign countries anyway...”
That was true.
Korea did have a tendency to force patriotism on people. It was a kind of patriotic gaslighting.
Americans might not care, but Europeans would foam at the mouth over it.
Then Han Seonga cautiously spoke.
“By the way... Mr. Baek Jiho. Are you really sure you’re okay with holding a press conference?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“This is your first time appearing before the public, isn’t it? We scheduled the press conference, but if you don’t want it, we can simply skip it. As you know, there are many ugly people among journalists.”
Han Seonga seemed worried that I’d become a target for the media.
The standards of Korean journalism weren’t exactly high. People often called them trash reporters. There were plenty of reporters who wrote low-quality, provocative articles.
“In fact, there have been quite a few reporters and media outlets attacking you. They’ve tried to collect your personal information, gather rumors and package them into plausible articles, and spread false reports claiming you were already planning to abandon Korea and immigrate to America or Europe...”
“Seriously? Those shameless bastards! They dare attack this body, the one who’ll save King Korea, with the tips of their pens?!”
“Of course, the National Intelligence Service and the government have censored those articles until now, but that will become difficult after the formal contract. Interest in you will rise beyond what we can handle. And once your identity is revealed, we’ll have no justification for censorship either.”
Apparently, the National Intelligence Service and the government had been censoring malicious articles about me.
Those National Intelligence Service bastards.
I guess they had been doing some work behind the scenes after all. I thought they did nothing but get infiltrated by foreign agents.
Anyway, trash reporters...
After thinking for a moment, I answered.
“It’s fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. They’re just trash reporters anyway, right? Skipping a press conference because I’m scared of some trash reporters would be pretty lame.”
Who was I?
I was the Extreme Lunatic Hell Patriotic Chungmugong Wizard Hunter who would save the Republic of Korea. The director of the Extreme Lunatic Hell Power Plant. The Stealth Longbow Apache attack helicopter. The successor of the Goblin Sect and a martial artist in the Peak Realm. A genius of slaughter succeeding Mao Zedong. And the Extreme Lunatic Hell Heaven Holy Priest.
Was someone like me supposed to run away because I was afraid of the media?
That would be way too lame!
‘People say the pen is mightier than the sword. But... it’s weaker than magic, isn’t it?’
Plebeians who waved around swords and spears might get into trouble if the media targeted them.
But this body was not some primitive plebeian who waved around blades and spears!
“I’d actually like reporters to attack me.”
“...Why? Being attacked by the media will make things difficult for you in many ways.”
“Because I’m going to become a superstar. And a superstar... is someone who drives both their fans and haters insane!”
“...?”
“It’s a famous quote from Hoon-ah hyung. Remember it.”
The GOAT of trot music, God Hoon-ah hyung, had spoken.
A true superstar drove both haters and fans insane!
Someone everyone liked was not a superstar, just a star. There had to be people who hated you for the people who liked you to love you to the point of madness.
A major figure with overwhelming presence like me had to draw both blind praise and intense criticism. For a superstar, anti-fans were practically essential.
Now that I’d resolved to become a super attention seeker who surpassed Donald Torumph and Elon Mengsk, it was only natural that people would start insulting me!
Those trash reporters needed to criticize and curse me in moderation so the people of King Korea would like me even more.
“So you don’t need to censor the media anymore. The media needs to criticize me so the people of our country will like me more.”
“But...”
“It’s really fine. More importantly, what kind of food will they serve at the banquet? Korea’s president and Torumph will both be there, so they’ll have something really good, right? Like lobster. I’ve never had lobster before. I want to try it this time.”
“No. It will probably be a Korean course meal. It’s customary to serve the host country’s traditional food.”
“No...! Why?!”
We passed Gyeongbokgung and headed toward the Blue House.
The blue roof tiles standing beneath Bukaksan came into view.
* * *
After arriving at the Blue House, we first went through security screening.
The men from the Presidential Security Service searched my belongings and the car.
“Mr. Baek Jiho... confirmed. You don’t have any weapons, correct?”
“I don’t.”
“What is that stick?”
“Ah. It’s my staff. I’ve been getting old lately... so I need a walking stick to get around. Oof, my poor back.”
“...”
Thanks to being a Wizard Hunter, getting my staff inside was easy.
From the outside, it was just an old and shabby walking stick. This would make using magic easier.
I’d become capable of using magic without a staff through recent training, but there was a huge difference in efficiency.
After the security screening came makeup time.
Before I appeared before the media, I was supposed to undergo makeup in a makeup room inside the Blue House.
But I firmly refused.
“Ugh...! A man wearing makeup?! I’m not a fucking fag! I won’t get makeup, so understand that!”
“Mr. Baek Jiho? But you’ll soon be standing in front of cameras. At least putting on a base layer would be...”
“I’m not a fucking fag!”
They suddenly held cosmetics up to my face.
Naturally, I had no choice but to leap away in horror and run!
‘A man with a dick putting powder on his face?!’
Rebuke!
A true martial artist should stay far away from faggot makeup and stay close to sweat and iron!
Men who reeked of face powder belonged only in the entertainment industry or gay bars!
How could this body, the manliest man among men, put powder on his face?
It was ridiculous. Of course!
“Jiho... Can’t you please just sit still and get it done? Why are you making such a scene after coming all the way here...”
“You wouldn’t understand because you’re a woman. A man putting powder on his face is an act that’ll make his dick fall off. The only cosmetics a man can use are all-in-one toner-lotion and sunscreen!”
“Ah... This is embarrassing.”
For some reason, my sister was embarrassed when I thrashed around.
No, men wearing makeup were more embarrassing.
Maybe my sister didn’t understand these masculine feelings because she was a woman.
While we went through all those troublesome procedures, I heard quiet voices coming from all around.
“Is that person really Blue Dot?”
“Hmm... His mental world certainly seems extraordinary.”
“Should I ask for an autograph?”
“Forget it. If the chief catches you, you’ll get chewed out.”
“I heard he earns hundreds of thousands of Points a day. That’s incredible. He’s supposedly still in the High Floors, yet he’s already making that much...”
“Maybe our country really won’t collapse...”
Blue House employees kept glancing my way.
There were Presidential Security Service agents, secretaries, and employees in charge of makeup.
They whispered among themselves, thinking I couldn’t hear them. But the Extreme Lunatic Hell Wizard Hunter could hear it all.
I smirked.
‘They must find me fascinating.’
Well, I’d kept my identity thoroughly hidden until now.
The only people who knew my face were a few people close to me, the National Intelligence Service, and high-ranking government officials.
Now that they could finally see my face, they had no choice but to find it fascinating.
After that, I received various kinds of instruction. There were explanations about the contract ceremony, tips for dealing with reporters, anticipated questions, and suggested answers.
Naturally, I didn’t memorize them properly.
I was going to answer questions according to my own convictions anyway, so I saw no reason to memorize anticipated questions and answers.
While we went through those complicated and inconvenient procedures, someone came looking for us.
“Ho ho. I’m sorry to have kept our guest waiting before coming to see you. My conversation with President Trump lasted longer than expected, you see.”
Step, step.
A middle-aged man walked down the long Blue House hallway with a group of secretaries behind him.
It was a familiar face. Of course it was. He was on the news all the time.
He was in his forties, fairly young for a politician. His eyes looked exhausted, and dark circles hung heavily beneath them.
Only a few years ago, he had been an unknown independent politician. Then the country began seriously collapsing.
He rapidly climbed up from the bottom and eventually reached the presidency.
With a warm smile, he held out his hand.
“I am Jang Daehan, President of the Republic of Korea. It is a pleasure to meet you like this.”
“It’s me.”
“I have been looking forward to meeting Hunter Baek Jiho. At last, we meet. Thank you for coming all this way.”
Jang Daehan, the president of King Korea.
He had come to see me.
As I shook his hand, I felt strangely moved.
‘Hmm. It feels a little strange to shake hands with someone I’ve only ever seen on TV.’
Glance.
I turned my gaze toward the top of his head.
His crown shone brightly.
The president had crown baldness!
I muttered quietly to myself.
‘They said he had a full head of hair before becoming president, but after taking office, stress gave him baldness on the crown of his head. Well, being president of a country on the verge of collapse can’t be easy.’
That was why people nicknamed him Baldy.
There had been another president in the past famous for being bald, but this was a completely different person, so please don’t misunderstand.
Anyway, President Jang Daehan...
‘He’s a pitiful person in many ways.’
A man who ran tirelessly from place to place to save his homeland from imminent collapse.
He toured America, China, Russia, Europe, and Japan, begging for Points like a beggar. He appeared before the UN and London, pleading for them to please support Korea with Points.
That kind of man.
It was admittedly not very dignified behavior for the leader of a country...
But when the country was completely fucked, what dignity was there to preserve?
That was why most citizens felt sorry for him.
Whenever they saw that thinning crown, they couldn’t help feeling pity.
Tsk, tsk.
I clicked my tongue quietly.
‘What a pitiful man. He became president of a country on the verge of collapse for no reason, and now he’s suffering all kinds of hardship and humiliation.’
A commendable and pitiful guy.
I should encourage him at least.
Still holding his hand, I offered some warm words.
“President Jang Daehan. This Extreme Lunatic Hell Patriotic Chungmugong Hunter will soon save the Republic of Korea. Once the Republic of Korea recovers and your stress disappears, your crown will grow thick again too, right? So wait just a little longer.”
“Jiho!”
“...!”
My sister, who had been watching, was startled.
The secretaries and employees around us opened their eyes wide too.
Why was everyone reacting like that?
Was there some problem with my sincere encouragement?
Footnotes:
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